


morning drive

by followsrabbit



Series: together again [3]
Category: SKAM (TV)
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-06-19
Packaged: 2018-11-16 04:04:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11245935
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/followsrabbit/pseuds/followsrabbit
Summary: Noora needs a ride to school. William volunteers.





	morning drive

“I can’t believe you're driving me to Nissen again.”

Brushing her fingers across the leather of William’s Aston Martin, Noora rests her ponytail—well, what remains of her ponytail after the ten entirely unplanned minutes William spent kissing her by the passenger door—against the window and watches her boyfriend pull onto the road, his grey hood cloaking his head and his dark hair falling into his eyes. The Oslo sun beams around them, all lightness and chirping birds and other late springtime clichés.

It could almost be a flashback, if it weren’t even better than any of the memories she’s spent the last eight months replaying on loop.

“Did you miss it?” he asks, his eyes geared on traffic and blind spots even as his lips curve. It’s a familiar smile, one that he only really seems to give to her. He always has, even when Noora had no interest in drawing his smiles.

(Or so she used to tell herself.) (She used to tell herself that a lot.)

“Your cars? No.” Even a stranger would be able hear the answering smile in her denial.

He’s still looking ahead, but Noora catches his grin anyhow, the way it grows rather than falters. “You missed it.”

Noora wishes he had his hood down so she could drawl her fingers through his hair. She settles for saying, “Maybe I missed it a little.”

Keeping one hand on the wheel, William reaches for her palm with the other and pulls her fingers to his lips. A kiss for each knuckle. “If you skip,” he murmurs, almost into her skin, “we can go for breakfast.”

Noora rolls her eyes, pulsing their grips before guiding his hand back to the steering wheel. “We already had breakfast.”

“Second breakfast then. Somewhere that serves hot cocoa.”

Noora cants her head, presses her lips together, and—“No. You’re not bribing me into missing school with cocoa.”

“It’s the end of June,” he says, shooting her a deadpan look. “I promise you’re not learning anything today.”

“William.” His reasoning actually sounds reasonable, but she can’t let him know that; can’t let him know just how thoroughly he’s ruined her. 

(So thoroughly.) (Insanely thoroughly.) (She can’t stop smiling.) 

“My phone is dead,” she continues, “remember? I need to let my friends know that I’m alive.” She wondered throughout the weekend at the lack of messages from Sana and Eva and Vilde and Chris. Then she grabbed for her phone this morning, found it very dead, and the radio silence suddenly made sense. “And I need to let Sana know that I’m not mad.”

Only a few minutes left until they pull into Nissen. And even though she does want to see her friends, even though does want to talk things through with Sana, Noora can’t help but lean over until her palm lines are crossing William’s denim-clad thigh. She also wants their long weekend to last longer—would cling to it, tangibly, were it possible.

(It’s not.) (She knows that.) (She still keeps her hand on William’s leg.)

He looks over to raise an eyebrow at her. “Just ‘not mad?” he teases. Noora doesn’t know that William ever had a favorite out of her friends before, but thinks it’s safe to assume that Sana has won the spot.

“I _might_ ,” she concedes with an exaggerated sigh, “be happy.”

“Just happy?”

“I can come up with a few more synonyms if you’d like.”

She's close enough now that it’s easy for William to peck his lips across her cheek. “Smart girl.”

Laughter curling her lips, Noora prods his attention back to the road. “And what are you?” she asks.

William’s lips twitch. “I’m happy.”

“Just happy?”

“Really—” they’re almost to Nissen now “—fucking happy.”

“Me too.” Pulling her backpack up onto her lap, Nora tilts a wide smile at him. “Effulgently happy.”

William calls her a show-off.

Noora retorts that his car is the showiest thing she’s ever seen.

“And yet here you are inside it with me,” William says, turning his face now to take in her whole face.

She means to roll her eyes, but ends up staring into his instead, exasperated with herself but too blissfully content to care all that much about the sappiness of it all. “Will you just—”

“Shut up and kiss you?” William glances back to the road. He looks really, fucking, effulgently happy. “Yes. Just let me park first.”

(And Noora can’t even tease him for it, because, when she steps out of his car, she’s pretty sure she does too.)


End file.
